


Hold My Hand, Take Me Under

by CeeKari



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: (more like blood tasting probably), Aftercare, Assassination as Art, Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, Haiku, Murder as a Form of Intimacy, New-U's are Canon in This Story, No Angst, Non-Sexual Kink, Nonbinary Zero, Other, Rhys has Intrusive Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Trust Kink, Zer0 has Assassin Thoughts, violent imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeeKari/pseuds/CeeKari
Summary: While exploring the forgotten Skunkworks Lab, Rhys and Zer0 discover a working New-U station. Rhys expresses curiosity. Zer0 offers their assistance.
Relationships: Rhys/Zer0 (Borderlands)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 131





	1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Author's Note:**

> We're romanticizing murder now, my darlings. Seriously, do not take this story as a good representation of what it's like to be shot/die. A lot of stuff has been glossed over in the interest of telling the story I wanted to, and in the interest of not having to describe anybody's posthumous bowel evacuations. Takes place after the main quest “Atlas At Last” and the side quest “Ratch'd Up”.

“You're shitting me,” Rhys blurts. The device Zer0 has just pointed out to him is astonishingly unremarkable. Unpowered, monochrome in the darkness, it looks more or less the same as the rest of derelict lab equipment back here. He circles closer, using his palm light to get a better look. Ratch husks and chipped concrete crunch under his boots. “For real? An honest to god, real life New-U station?”

“I'm certain of it,” Zer0 says. They peer at a corroded electrical panel on the opposite wall, lantern in hand.

“And... they actually work? You've used one before?”

“Unfortunately/ and much more than just one time/ Handy machines, those.”

“I can't believe we just have one of them sitting back here. It's like finding a unicorn.”

Zer0 glances at him. “They're placed all over/ Surprised you haven't noticed/ A common device.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess I've seen them around some places before. I just assumed they were, I dunno, security checkpoints or something? Never heard what New-Us were supposed to look like. Back on Helios, all management ever told us was that rumors of them were a... 'fanciful fabrication',” he says, air quoting, “and we shouldn't waste any more time talking about it.” He frowns. For something so technologically advanced, the exterior looks deceptively simple. Just a geometric upright terminal with an unpleasantly familiar yellow paintjob.

"How unexpected/ Hyperion created them/ but didn't use them?” Zer0 asks. They flip something in the breaker box with a loud click.

Rhys jumps backwards as the machine rises and unfolds. Covers retract almost silently and multiple robotic arms, each tipped with blue-white light, extend and point forward.

“I dunno,” Rhys answers, activating his Echo-Eye to scan the now functional machine. “Guess management figured we'd demand some be installed around the station if we knew they existed. Probably they didn't think it would be worth the money. Not a lot of death and dying up there. I mean, usually. All just finger guns, you know?” He chuckles, firing imaginary bullets to demonstrate. “Plus just the usual ah, cost-cutting stuff. We were- _they_ were- pretty bad about that.”

His eye's analysis loads in.

New-U Station #412

Manufacturer: Hyperion

Status: Operational

Hyperion: Death isn't the end. Bankruptcy is!

On the other side of the hallway, Zer0 shuts the box. “These other breakers/ are damaged beyond repair/ No lights to be had,” they lament with a :/

Rhys sighs. “Honestly, I'm surprised the one for this thing worked,” he says, watching Zer0 as they come over to inspect the New-U station with him. “I could take a crack at rewiring it to power the lights instead. What do you think?”

“You didn't know they/ existed, so I assume/ you've never used one/ You should register/” they suggest, gesturing to the machine. “A good precaution to take/ Can you afford it?”

“Depends. Think it'd be ethical to call it a business expense?” he asks, mostly rhetorically. Probably he could hack it and bypass needing to pay, but these days he prefers not connecting to anything Hyperion if he can help it. The Jack AI did run through the entirety of Helios at one point. It's not impossible for there to be some copy, some still lingering code in any given Hyperion system. Not a risk worth taking, in his opinion.

At his approach, a blue holoscreen with white text activates in front of the machine, reading:

“Welcome [error:recordnotfound]!”

Underneath is a button labeled “Register New User”. Rhys taps it. A new screen appears with a list of payment options and the cost of creating an account in bold at the top. He gives a low whistle.

“Jesus wow, that's steep. How do people afford these?”

Zer0 shrugs. “It's Hyperion/ Profit outweighs saving lives/ How much do you need?”

“What? No, that's- you don't have to- I mean, thank you,” Rhys flounders, touched. “I've got it. It's just higher than I expected.”

“As a CEO/ you're targeted more than most/ It's best to be safe.”

Zer0's apparent concern is- well, it's sweet. A blush crawls its way up Rhys's neck, and he hopes it isn't too visible in the dark. “I guess it doesn't hurt anything to be careful. Except my credit score,” he jokes, feeding his routing and account numbers into the machine. The screen flashes a quick payment confirmation, then changes to a gif of a stylized hand patting a nondescript square. Rhys sighs. Why does nobody ever use text instructions?

He looks to Zer0. “It's uh, telling me to put my hand... somewhere?”

They point out a rectangular pad on the side of the machine. “DNA reader/” they explain simply.

Rhys thanks them and dutifully places his hand over the square. He jerks it back an instant later when something sharp stabs his palm.

“Ow! What the fuck?” Rhys yelps, taking several steps back from the hostile device. He inspects his hand. A single bead of blood wells up, dark and shiny in the palm light's glow.

“Just the sampling process/ Acquired your gene code.”

“A warning would have been nice,” Rhys grouses, cradling his hand.

Zer0 ducks their head, looking contrite. “I apologize/ I should have guessed you wouldn't/ know to expect it.” They take his hand as they pull something from their pocket. Rhys recognizes it as a patch for small caliber gunshot wounds.

“S'really not that bad,” he mumbles sheepishly as they center the sticker over the tiny wound, rubbing with their thumb to get a good seal. Something about the tender treatment makes his heart stutter. It's silly, he thinks. Over a year together and little gestures like these still cause him to react like it's his first crush. Get it together, Rhys.

Zer0 releases his hand and begins tapping buttons on the New-U's screen. Curious, Rhys looks over their shoulder as they add his name and basic details to the profile. Huh. Interesting that they know his height, weight, blood type, and the specs of all his cybernetics off the top of their head. If it were anyone else, that might even be creepy. Good thing he knows they're trustworthy.

Zer0 hits 'finalize'. The machine whirs quietly.

“Now when you get killled/ a New-U will respawn you/ if one is in range,” they say, their helm projecting a happy little :3

Rhys's brows furrow. “Mmyeah, I really don't like that 'when' thing you just said,” he mutters under his breath. He eyes the metal arms of the machine again. Deeper analysis shows them to be advanced digistructing tools. Made with proprietary parts, coded with top secret software. Wow, that's a lot of redaction. He shakes his head, dismissing the file. “Uh. Right. So when I'm critically injured, these keep me from dying, yeah? How does that work, exactly?”

“Oh no, you still die/” Zer0 replies easily. “You just respawn afterward/ Death won't stick, is all.”

“Oh. Okay. Respawn, right. That makes... total sense,” Rhys says dryly. “Kinda hope I don't end up needing that, but hey, never a bad idea to cover your ass. I mean, not your ass, my ass. Or, one's ass?” He prods one of the mechanical arms and changes the subject before he ends up saying 'ass' any more. “What's it like, using one? Does it hurt or...?”

“Respawning doesn't/ The pain of dying depends/ on how it happens.”

“Well, yeah. Death's usually, er, pretty painful, right? I'm guessing. Can't imagine there are a lot that _don't_ hurt.”

“Skilled sniper shots. Well-placed explosions. Long falls,” Zer0 offers, shrugging.

Rhys shudders at that last one. “Nnnope, I'm uh, not a big fan of heights,” he says, trying not to sound totally horrified. “But, well, I guess if you're high enough up when it happens, at least it's pretty much instant, huh?” Aside from the long, long drop and getting to see the ground rushing up at you and being utterly unable to do anything to prevent the inevitable splat, Rhys thinks. At a certain point, fear is just as unpleasant as pain. He shakes his head, trying to clear the thought.

Zer0 doesn't respond, apparently distracted by a box of spare gun components tucked in the corner a few feet away. They set their lantern down and sit against the wall to better loot it.

Rhys starts to follow and stumbles over another crate. White body, red lid, Atlas logo, about the size of a microwave. Looks lootable. A quick pan with his palm light reveals quite a lot of similar boxes along the walls. It'd probably be best to haul all this junk back out and have someone go through it more methodically, Rhys thinks. Maybe even catalog things. He starts to say so to Zer0, but stops when he glances back over at them. They've found some sort of Jakobs sniper scope they're marveling over, the red glow of their delighted :D glinting off the metal and glass as they turn it this way and that.

Rhys scrubs his face. Gah, how is his partner finding more efficient murder gear so _cute?_ Screw it, he decides. There's time to go through a couple of boxes now.

He kneels to pry off the lid of his crate and tries to keep the conversation going. “So you said long falls, headshots, and explosions aren't actually that bad. What are other deaths like?” he asks. The lid doesn't budge. He pulls harder. “Like, maybe you have a top ten list of best ways to die, or maybe there's some that were worse than you expected...?”

Zer0 brushes dust off their new scope as they answer. “Feeling morbid, Rhys?/” they ask, sounding amused. “Such gruesome topics aren't your/ usual banter.”

“Just making conversation,” Rhys says, shrugging awkwardly.

“Fair enough,” they reply as they continue rummaging. “To answer, it's down/ to the type of wound, and where./” They pause and look up at Rhys, the red light of a wink momentarily brightening the dim corridor. “Could always show you,” they tease.

Rhys freezes. There shouldn't be anything appealing about that thought, so why-? Gah, stupid brain.

“I'm kidding,” Zer0 quickly reassures him. SRY, they flash.

Rhys waves his hands. “Nonono, you're fine, it's not- I mean I know.” He stalls by busying himself with the box at his feet again. Closer inspection reveals that the lid folds out rather than pulling off, which explains a lot. He opens it. Inside are more weapon mods.

Zer0 projects a question mark. They still look concerned, he thinks, the scope forgotten in their lap as they watch him. He drags the crate over and sits down close to his partner, making sure the box is in easy reach for them. Ever since that bastard Katagawa's impersonation attempt, Zer0's been noticeably careful about frightening him, like they think they need to regain his trust. He absently analyzes a couple of components while he tries to think of what to say.

“You didn't scare me. And I'm not trying to be morbid,” Rhys starts. This isn't a thing he likes to talk about, but. He doesn't want to worry Zer0 and they deserve his honesty. “I guess I'm just kind of curious about it or something. Dying, I mean. I've never actually _died_ before. Er. Obviously, right?” He rubs his neck. “Did come close on Pandora a lot of times. Seriously a _lot_ of times. Enough that, uh. Sometimes at night I end up thinking about it. Like I can't _stop_ thinking about it, in- in upsettingly gory detail. About what it would've been like, and felt like, if. I actually got shot. Or spaced. Or eaten by a skag, or- just, any of that. Yeah. You know?” He fiddles with a stabilizer fin and doesn't look at them.

“I might,” Zer0 says. They lean against his side. Idly they begin picking through his loot.

“And I can't permanently die, right?” Rhys adds, still not making eye contact. “Not with the New-U up and running.” He sets aside a cracked rifle stock. “And if I knew what dying was really like, maybe I could stop thinking about it? So, uh. How weird would it be if I said I might consider. Um. Having you show me.”

Zer0 pauses. “I guess that depends/ How weird is it that I would/ if you asked me to?”

Rhys adds a warped shotgun barrel to the reject pile. “I dunno.” he says pensively, picking up a pistol grip next. “Probably not all that weird, honestly? I mean, I figure it'd work pretty much the same as any other contract I've hired you on, just a different target, so-”

“No.”

Rhys blinks. “Sorry?”

“Not on a contract/” they say quietly. “I wouldn't be doing it/ only for you, Rhys.”

“I'm... not sure I follow you,” he says slowly. No contract? Not only for him?

Zer0 stays silent for a few long moments. When they finally speak again, they're uncharacteristically hesitant.

“I would enjoy it/ Killing you, I mean. Death, it.../ can be intimate,” they say, faltering. “Sorry. Is that too fucked up?”

 _Oh_. His heart beats loud in his ears. He almost laughs. Fucked up is definitely not something he has room to judge, he thinks, all things considered. “Intimate how?” he asks.

Zer0 crosses their arms, head down. “It's hard to explain/” they say eventually. “But when asked for, wanted, it's/ almost sensual.” They shrug awkwardly. “Sometimes.”

Rhys's brows furrow. “Does that happen often? Being asked for it?”

They shake their head. “Not frequently, no/ Some assisted suicides/ and mercy killings.”

“Oh,” says Rhys. “That seems. Dark.”

Zer0 says nothing.

Rhys tries to imagine it. He thinks he can, maybe a little. Being in pain, at the end of your rope, no way out except the obvious, looking into their eyes as they slice the blade across your throat or put the barrel to your temple, trusting that they'll do it clean. Murder as an act of love.

Yeah. He gets it. Maybe.

Rhys leans back against Zer0's side. “I think... I think I want you to,” he admits.


	2. Satisfaction Brought It Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zer0 PoV, this time.
> 
> This chapter gets fairly graphic, folks, so please be careful if you're sensitive to that sort of thing. Everything is consensual, but Rhys does have a bad time for a little bit. Be warned.

When Rhys told them he'd leave things to their discretion, it didn't take them long at all to decide on a suitable weapon.

Actually finding it in their room on the upper floor, however, was a much lengthier process. The pistol had been tucked away in a small case under a stack of bounty posters, weapon schematics, a tin of mustache oil, and a small collection of Echonet games (including Rhys's lost copy of Creature Crossing), so it had taken them longer than intended to find. Rhys may even be finished with the rewiring before they get back.

They pad silently back to him in the Skunkworks Lab. It seems he isn't done, but fluorescent lights flicker overhead as he works on replacing the corroded components in the breaker box.

“Common sense dictates/ you should cut power before/ attempting repairs,” they chide. Despite their words, they watch over his shoulder and admire the surety with which he handles the live wires.

“Now, how would I know I'm getting the connections right if the power was off?” he kids. A small spark crackles as he attaches another wire.

Zer0 musses his hair fondly. He's adept enough with electronics and quite mechanically inclined, so they aren't terribly worried about him. Plus, there's a New-U station he's attuned to literally five feet behind him.

They check the pistol they've chosen while Rhys finishes up. More lights flicker to life further down the hallway, accompanied by the hum of the ventilation systems powering up. Rhys grins proudly. He closes the breaker box and turns to them.

“So. You, uh, get what you needed from your room?” he asks.

They nod. “If you've changed your mind/ I wouldn't think less of you/ Dying is scary.”

“No, I'm good. Like I said before, I trust your judgment. If you're confident the New-U works, I believe you,” he says, laying a hand on their arm.

His faith is touching. Zer0 flashes him a bright <3\. “I've experienced/ being respawned many times/ with no ill effects,” they say. “So I'm confident/ Still, I don't want to push you/ Are you certain, Rhys?”

He bumps their faceplate with his forehead. “Yeah. I'm. I'm into it if you are.”

They squeeze his hand. “I'd be honored.”

“So, then. How do we, uh. What did you decide? Sword?” Rhys asks. “Or would gun be better?”

“Gunshot to the heart/” they tell him. “Death in twenty seconds, tops/ Quick, clean, efficient.”

“I'm guessing you had something upstairs that fits the bill?”

Zer0 pulls the Atlas pistol from their hip.

“One of ours, nice,” Rhys says, running his fingers over the stabilizer fins. “Standard AX-19. Ol' reliable. Yeah, this would- this would do it, huh? ” Rhys grins crookedly. “Maybe if this doesn't suck too bad, I'll add it to the quality phase. Personally test out the lethality of our products.”

“Not necessary/” Zer0 says. They emote a wink. “Lethality testing is/ what you pay me for.”

Rhys chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, that's actually not anywhere in your job description. You just always steal my prototypes and are nice enough to tell me what needs tweaking afterward. Which, hey, I appreciate you taking the initiative. Best employee, ten out of ten, would hire again.” He hesitates, clears his throat. “Well. So then. What now?”

The concrete wall isn't far behind him. Zer0 guides him back against it until he stops with a gentle thump. They crowd him in, one arm braced on the wall beside his head, one hand at his waist. He's pleasantly warm to the touch, as always. They sigh quietly and lean into him, taking a moment to enjoy it. Rhys loops his arms around their neck, breathing unsteady. His eyes are wide, apprehensive and appealingly prey-like.

They wonder if he might consider letting them hunt him one day. They don't know this area of the HQ too well yet, it having been only recently reopened. Doubtless Rhys could find hiding spots in here, and chasing him through the unfamiliar corridors might give them a something of a challenge. They picture it, how he'd look running, they way he'd stumble as they took their shot, his momentum sending him sprawling to the ground, his blood pooling around him, vivid scarlet contrasting starkly with the dull gray of the floor and the black of his vest.

They squash down the predatory urges. It's not what they need now. Not what Rhys needs. However enticing he'd be as prey, they won't do anything to make him truly fear them. They love his trust too much for that.

“When you're ready, Rhys/” they say gently.

“Like this?” he asks. “Shouldn't I be lying down, or...?”

Zer0 shakes their head slowly. “Your legs will give out and I/ want you to feel it,” they murmur.

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” he says.

“I will not drop you.”

“I know.”

Zer0 cups Rhys's face, his stubble catching on the leather of their glove. An endearing shade of pink dusts his cheeks. They drag their thumb across his bottom lip, and Rhys turns to press a trembling kiss into their palm, watching them sideways. Zer0's breath catches. When they slide their hand over his neck to feel his pulse, it flutters under their thumb like a caught bird. Even as scared as he is, he stands his ground against the fear. He's not a vault hunter like them, but there is strength in him enough to admire, and admire him Zer0 does.

They wrap an arm around his waist, keeping him steady. With their other hand they equip the pistol, use the fins to push aside his vest so they can properly center the barrel, about three inches to the left of his tie. Rhys watches the gun. He wets his lips, looks up at them. He nods once.

Zer0 watches their partner's eyes as they pull the trigger.

They feel the backspatter hit them, hear the air rush out of Rhys all at once. He sags. Zer0 catches him and quickly, carefully lowers him to sit against the wall. They hold their palm over the wound, feeling the warm blood spurt under their hand, spilling fast. They don't bother applying pressure.

Rhys's wide eyes flick rapidly over Zer0, his face pale as bleached bone. He mouths something that they don't quite catch.

“Hurts?” they ask softly.

Rhys shudders and gasps for breath but can't seem to vocalize an answer. He grimaces though, clearly pained. Zer0 clicks in sympathy. Regrettable but not avoidable, unfortunately. The pain shouldn't last long, at least; shock will set in soon. Rhys's Echo-eye struggles to focus, power flickering. His prosthetic hand twitches. The other clutches at nothing. Zer0 catches that one, holds it to their chest.

“Almost over,” they assure him. “You're doing well.” They squeeze his hand. Rhys squeezes back, holds tight. He doesn't look so pained now. They realize that he's letting them feel his hand go slack as he fades, and their heart goes soft with fondness.

“Pretty,” they murmur, because he is. Part of the beauty of life lies in its fragility. Small wonder it glows most brightly when contrasted with imminent demise. The bright, slick stain soaking Rhys's shirt, paired with his now ashen skin, is a gorgeous juxtaposition. Zer0 wouldn't be able to appreciate any of it if Rhys was going to die permanently, but here, like this, knowing he'll be back in a matter of minutes, they can let themself appreciate the spectacle.

Rhys's grip weakens. His expression slackens to something almost peaceful, his gaze going distant as his rasping breaths grow shallower. He slumps forward, until his forehead rests on Zer0's shoulder. By now he should be unconscious, but they still hold his unresponsive hand, patiently waiting until it's finished.

It doesn't take long. One final shudder wracks his body, and Rhys is dead. Zer0 strokes his face, leaving a nicely aesthetic streak of blood on his colorless cheek.

Seconds later, the cadaver takes on a glitched appearance as it digitally deconstructs, the New-U device using components from the old body in order to recreate the new. As the hand in their grasp becomes increasingly intangible, a silhouette of blue-white light begins to coalesce in front of the machine.

Knowing it will take a minute or two for Rhys to fully regain his form and cognizance, they lift their faceplate. Their palm is coated with Rhys's blood, and they're curious whether it will taste much different from their own. They flick their tongue over it, cautious at first. It's rich, salty, similar to theirs, but there is something different. They take another taste. More metallic, they think. Maybe due to the cybernetics? They keep an eye on Rhys's reconstruction as they clean the rest of the blood from their glove, catlike.

Once Rhys is mostly formed, they slot their faceplate back into place and stand nearby in case he needs them. Respawning can be quite disorienting. They can't recall for certain, their first time having been so long ago, but they imagine that's especially true for someone who's never experienced it before.

Rhys blinks, looking dazed as the last molecules of his body find their way back to where they belong. Zer0 takes his elbow.

“Welcome back,” they say fondly.

“Hhholy shit,” Rhys breathes. “Wow, holy shit.” He touches his chest. “I'm okay. Right?” he asks, patting himself down to check. “It worked?”

“You're alive and whole/” they assure. They pull him into an embrace. “Thank you for indulging me/ You died very well.”

Rhys snorts and hugs them back. “Hey, I wasn't really doing you a favor. I asked for it, you know.”

“Still,” they say. They rest their chin on his head. “What did you think?” His face still looks worryingly pale, if they're honest.

“It was...” He hesitates. “I dunno. It was, scary? I mean, I thought I was ready for it and then, oh wow, I was not nearly as prepared as I thought. Like the legs thing you wanted me to feel? I thought it would be like when people get shot in the movies, where they just slowly sink to their knees all shocked? Nope,” he says. “Was not like that. Was not like that at all. I didn't even feel the- the uh, the gunshot yet and my legs were just, done. Like they'd been vaporized or something. They uh, still feel kinda weird, actually,” he admits. “And. I might be a little light-headed?” He sways and clings to Zer0 for balance.

They help him to the side of the corridor, to a crate that's the right height for sitting. “You handled it well,” they say, offering him a <3

“You're a liar,” Rhys accuses. He leans forward and cradles his knees. “Mmgh. Yep, kinda nauseous,” he says faintly. Zer0 rubs his back sympathetically.

“I still mean it, though/ You were scared but kept your head/ Even held my hand,” they remind him.

“Oh. Yeah, I wanted you to know I was still there. Or when I- when I wasn't anymore.”

“A touching gesture.”

“It made me feel better, too,” Rhys says without raising his head. “Even when I stopped being able to see, I could feel your hand. Could feel that until the very end, when everything... went away.”

Zer0 takes his hand again. Rhys squeezes.

“I mean, I'll go ahead and tell you, it wasn't fun. Definitely not fun. The whole,” he gestures vaguely, “dying thing. I mean, you did good, it only seriously hurt for a second or two, but yeah. It did kinda suck. I was... so ridiculously _cold_ the whole time. And the panic, that 'oh shit this is it' feeling. I think the only thing I even tried to say was several choice swear words.”

Zer0 laughs, projects a large, bright LOL. “Understandable/ I don't like dying either/ It really does suck.” They nudge him with their elbow. “I assume that means/ you'd like to do this again/ soon as possible?”

Rhys chuckles. “Oh, for sure. Just let me print out the sheets, we can play murder bingo for realsies. First row can be different gunshot wounds. Second'll be, uh. Second'll be explosions.”

“Sword wounds for third row?/” they ask innocently.

“Sure, why not? Decapitation is the free space.”

“Vehicular homicides/ should be the fourth row.”

“Ugh, no thank you. Think I'll skip on trying those,” Rhys says with a grimace. “Cars seem like they'd be imprecise. At best.”

Zer0 rests their chin in their hand, interest piqued. “That seems to suggest/ you'd consider explosions/ as well as stabbings.”

Rhys stretches and grins wryly. “Ah, well. Y'know. I mean, getting shot sucked, but I knew that going in. Now I know _how_ it sucks. Curiosity kills the Rhys, right? Maybe next I wanna know how frag grenades suck.”

“Close enough, they don't/ At range, the suck potential/ is phenomenal.”

Rhys laughs and bumps their knee. His color seems to be returning.

Zer0 wonders if he means it, and if he'd let them take pictures of the aftermath, before the New-U repurposes it. Grenades do make for captivating abstract art. If he agrees, perhaps they'll have one of the photos printed for him as a gift. A unique self-portrait for his office.

Rhys is studying them now, grinning lopsidedly. They project a ?

“No, it's nothing,” he says, abashed. “I just. I like you, is all. Kind of a lot. I think our weirdness is weirdly complementary.”

“That's the sweetest thing/ anyone's ever told me/” they say honestly. “Hold me, I may swoon./” They lean back dramatically, draping themself over his lap, one arm thrown across their faceplate. Rhys drums his fingers on the back of their helm, the way they've told him they like. He grins down at them.

“How are you feeling?/” they ask. “Adrenaline is draining/ Should I carry you?”

“I'm actually really hungry. How weird is that? You'd think dying might put you off of food for a while, but now that I'm not so nauseous I'm starving for some reason.”

“We missed fro-yo time/” Zer0 says, sitting up. Before Rhys can react, they've got one arm under his knees and one around his back, lifting him as they stand. “I'm still carrying you though/ just in case you faint.”

“What, all the way to- Hohhmygod, you are- _so_ tall please don't drop me,” Rhys babbles, clinging to their neck. “In fact you should put me down. I promise not to faint. I pink- I super promise not to faint.”

>:] says Zer0, setting him down at once. To no one's surprise but Rhys's, his knees go wobbly. They steady him.

“Yeah, okay, I might. Uh. Be a little shaky still. It's cool, though!” he adds hastily, batting at Zer0's hands. “Really, I can walk. Just, stay close to me, maybe.”

“Always.” They wrap an arm around his waist and make their way to the Outrunner. Rhys doesn't even fuss when they help him in and buckle him up.

\--

Later, curled up on the couch together watching Pandoran sitcoms after a late night fro-yo run, Rhys thinks dying happy could be the final row on the murder bingo card. 


End file.
